Tempted by the Bosshole (Forbidden Confessions #11) Read Online Shayla Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Forbidden Confessions Series by Shayla Black
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Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 50828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
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But tonight is about a party. Nothing that happens at the Force Financial holiday bash will decide my future.

I stare at myself in the mirror. “Are you sure about this dress? It’s awfully short.”

“It’s festive,” she corrects.

“This one-shoulder neckline exposes so much of me that I can’t wear a bra.”

“You’re fine. Your girls are perky. And hey, maybe you’ll finally attract someone who can get you off.”

“I still have a boyfriend.”

“This dress could help you change that.”

“It’s my office Christmas party!”

She shrugs. “Bonus. Whoever you hook up with can’t ghost you.”

“Jen!”

“Fine.” She sighs. “Tell me again why dipshit couldn’t go with you.”

Eric doesn’t do “office” things, even parties. As a trust-fund kid, he only has to pick out his next fancy car and play X-Box. He has no real responsibility. But he’s otherwise decent…most of the time. “Don’t start. Please.”

“I swear I saw him at Murphy’s last weekend with your neighbor.”

Mariah? Not possible. “He was in Florida with his buddies. He even sent me a group picture from Universal Studios.”

She glares skeptically. “If you say so.”

Eric isn’t perfect. I know he needs to mature some. But I wouldn’t cheat on him. Besides, if we split up now, I don’t have anywhere to live. Until I get my first paycheck, I won’t have the money for a place of my own.

“Can we focus? I’m not trying to attract a new boyfriend at this party, especially since I’ve only worked for Force Financial for two weeks. I want to send the right message. I’m professional. I’m dependable.” I wince. “I should wear the black dress.”

Jen blocks the closet door before I can reach for it. “You shouldn’t. It says boring. It says you’ve given up on yourself. It says you’ve only ever had missionary-style sex, none of which is true, right?”

I blush. Jen would be horrified if I was honest. “Of course.”

“What about your mysterious boss?”

“I’m not trying to hook up with him, either. He’s married.” Or at least he was when I met him a decade ago.

“I meant are you finally meeting Nathan Price tonight?”

“Technically, we already met.”

Jen rolls her eyes. “When you were a kid doesn’t count.”

“Why not?” After graduation, I figured it couldn’t hurt to apply for a job at the swanky financial firm he works for. I don’t remember him much, except that, at thirteen, I thought he was hot. And way nicer than his standoffish wife.

“Why aren’t he and your dad business partners anymore?”

“I don’t know.” Most of my dad’s life, especially his current whereabouts, are a mystery. “But I doubt Mr. Price will be at the party tonight. The big business emergency in Hawaii, whatever it was, got resolved. Still, if you could spend an extra weekend in paradise and avoid the Boston winter—along with the office Christmas party—wouldn’t you?”

“So he’s out until Monday. Got it.” She bumps my shoulder. “That means you can relax and enjoy yourself.”

“I hardly know anyone, so I doubt I’ll stay long.” Really, I should cut the evening short and spend some time with Eric. Since graduation, I’ve been busy finding a job so I can start paying off my student loans. I’ve barely spent time with him. Maybe that’s the cause of the rift I sense between us.

“Does the party have an open bar?”

“Yeah, but⁠—”

“Live a little, girl!” She lifts my arms wide and gives me a once-over. “You look great. The fuck-me shoes totally make the outfit.”

They’ll last fifteen minutes. I keep a pair of black flats at my desk. They’ll be perfect for blending in. “Thanks.”

“Here.” She shoves a little gold purse in my grasp. “Have a good time. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Call me tomorrow. I love you.”

I’ll probably be home by ten. “I love you, too.”

After a hug from Jen and a meow from her cat, Dude, I’m out the door and in my car.

The truth is, I don’t love this time of year. A decade ago, Dad left Mom and me just before the holidays. Five years later, when I was barely eighteen, Mom died. I spent that Christmas alone sobbing in the funeral home. Those were the darkest days of my life. I went to college because she wanted me to. Dad and I still have a strained relationship, but he helped financially—until last year when he basically disappeared. I’ve looked everywhere for him, even broke into his last known address. Nothing.

Who gets ghosted by their own father?

After I start the car, I glance in the rearview mirror. This dress would look more elegant—and less boobalicious—if I had something to distract from my cleavage. The clock tells me I have ten spare minutes to run home and grab my mother’s pendant. Yes, it’s a fourteen-carat-gold security blanket, but it would make me feel better.

A few minutes later, I dash through snow flurries from the parking lot to the front door of our apartment overlooking the water. Despite the fact Jen would frown at me throwing a coat over her slutastic dress, since I’m here I’ll grab one of those, too.



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